


Ashen Flowers

by GasterFan5



Series: Gravity Falls [12]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fire, I'm Bad At Tagging, Stanuary 2020, bad burns, burn - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22123384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GasterFan5/pseuds/GasterFan5
Summary: Hey guys! Week one for Stanuary 2020 was Burn.Stanley and Ford get into an argument and Stan refuses to hear him out. As a result, Ford resolves not to tell him anything.In the middle of the night, there's a fire--and it's all Stanley can do to try to find everyone. Little does he know nobody's home, and this causes catastrophe.
Series: Gravity Falls [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1235264
Kudos: 16
Collections: Stanuary





	Ashen Flowers

It was the dead of night. Nothing could be seen outside, and the only things you could see in the shack were because of a small lamp. Dipper, Mabel, and Ford quietly passed Stanley, who was sleeping on his favorite seat in the living room. They snuck out of the house and disappeared.

In the darkness, Ford had a chance to think about his latest argument with Stanley. He huffed in annoyance, recalling how much hate he had. Even so, he couldn’t recall why he was mad.

Stan and Ford’s argument lasted for an hour, each yelling at the other like they hated them. It was when it was over that Ford resolved not to tell him anything, because if Stan wasn’t going to listen to him then he might as well stop.

So, the next day, when Dipper came up to him asking to go monster hunting, he gladly packed a bag.

And now here they were, sneaking out to find a nice place to set up their tents and search for a monster Dipper heard of the other day.

Eventually, Ford unpacked the tents, and they slept for the rest of the night–although it wouldn’t be very long until the gang would wake up again.

. . .

**3:00 PM, BEFORE**

Stanley woke up late. The clock was ticking softly, and sunlight was pouring in from the windows. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, glancing around until he realized what time it was: 3:00 pm. “ _Cr_p, how long did I sleep?”_ he thought, pushing himself up out of his chair. He went to take a shower and wash off all of the grime and dust from the week before. Although it’s been 30 years, he’s still not used to daily, hot showers–and likely he’ll never be.

A sharp pain put his mind to focus, and he rubbed his shoulder. Ouch. The typical blue tattoo-like burn mark was stinging. To this day–Stan had no clue why this happened–but the burn never really healed. Well, it _did_ , but it still stung sometimes…It was complicated. Nonetheless, he instinctively touched his shoulder and waited for the pain to disappear.

After his quick shower, he decided to cook something for himself—just a quick omelet and some coffee, nothing serious. Just a simple, easy day.

. . .

**7:08 PM, BEFORE**

“Get away from the CHILDREN!” Ford yelled, charging up one of his many guns. A large monster hissed at him. It had thousands of teeth and three heads, each with two glowing eyes. It was so dark, dark enough that he couldn’t see well. The kids were trying to swing at its mighty heads, but Ford knew that it would grow another–and the problem would grow larger. So he attempted–and succeeded–in scaring it away.

He wiped sweat from his head, turned, and smiled at Mabel and Dipper when they applauded him. “You did it, Ford!”

“Ay, it was nothing. We should probably be going to bed soon…but first, who wants to read from the dictionary?!” Ford asked, excitedly reaching in his bag. The two glanced at each other with a grimace.

“Uh, Grunkle Ford–” Mable started, playing with her hair nervously. She didn’t want to upset the guy, especially after he’d yelled at Stanley for doodling with one of his pens.

“Haha! I was kidding. Who wants to roast marshmallows?!” He said, knowing what the kids would really appreciate. They both gasped and yelled in excitement. He brought the bag out and started a small, warm fire. Then he handed each kid a stick, and everyone got started on toasting.

. . .

**RIGHT BEFORE**

A tall, broad man could be seen lurking around the shack. He seemed out of breath and struggled to stand. It was only when you got close you could tell he was laughing. Laughing…?

“Well, _Pines_ , I bet you forgot about me…but after you humiliated me in front of my mates…” He could easily remember _one of them ruffling Stan’s hair. Laughing. They turned to face him and said, “Ouch! Looks like someone just got BURNED!”_

He gritted his teeth once more and struck a small match. “I figured you could be burned, too,” he whispered, hysterical, tossing it on the dry, wooden shack before high-tailing it out of there.

. . .

**SO IT STARTS**

Stanley was asleep. Again. Only this time, it was short-lived, for around 9:30 pm he woke to the smell of something…something very familiar. He spun around to see a fire, eating away at the wall behind him. It was far along by now, likely having reached…upstairs…“ _Kids!”_ he realized, panicking. Oh god, where could they be? Were they hurt?!

Instead of using his common sense, he ran up there and found the beds empty. This made him feel even worse, and he checked the next room. And the next. The fire was growing larger by now, reaching the upstairs. Wood from the floor started falling down, and he had to check where he was walking to prevent him from falling through the caving ground. He saw the last door, saw the fire, and grasped the doorknob to receive a nasty burn on his hand. He opened the door…

 _“They’re…not here,”_ he realized with a sigh of relief. A small bag he’d packed for times like this–just in case–was already on one of his shoulders. When it got there was an absolute mystery.

He checked the rooms on the first floor, just in case, and found Waddles huddled in a corner in the very last room. Fire licked the edges of said room, and he saw a wooden board coming crashing down right above said pig. He eyed it before he lunged at the pig with zero hesitance. The beam fell and hit him on the back, catching him on fire. Stanley cried out in pain before patting his hair down.

A moment for him to recover passed and Stanley weakly got up and moved towards the front door—slowly of course. Dodging the wooden beams crashing from the ceiling, he recognized his time was limited. Stan tripped on a beam he never saw drop; it was scorching, and when he fell, his leg landed on the hottest part.

He couldn’t see, couldn’t think, and gradually started to crawl towards the door. Reaching out for the door with his good arm, he felt himself start to burn even more. The floor was too hot, the room was too hot…Oh god, was he going to die in here?! With a surge of adrenaline and the remainder of his strength, Stanley charged at the door, which broke upon impact, and threw himself out of the house and limped a short but safe distance away before he passed out.

. . .

**7:00 AM, AFTER**

Ford stifled a yawn. The sun was high up in the sky, and its light shined directly on his face. This didn’t stop him, and he glanced out into the forest. He’d just woken up the kids from their slumber. Although the trip was fun, he couldn’t help but be glad the day-trip was over. However, this meant they had to pack up all of their belongings.

After triple-checking that everything was taken, Ford led the way to the Shack. Or, where the Shack used to be. He spun around in a circle. “I’m pretty sure it’s this way…?” he questioned. Ford hadn’t been in this dimension for years, and as a result, he’d forgotten his way around. Still, he tried his best.

. . .

**8:00 AM, AFTER**

Stanley woke up. For the first moment, he had forgotten everything that had happened the previous night. Then he opened his eyes and saw the aftermath, and everything came flooding back.

Instinctively, he looked around for Waddles, finding him sleeping right beside him in the shade. Said shade was from the tree’s brightly colored leaves, which he was currently leaning against. He sighed in relief. Now, time to go back into the shack–wait, where was the shack?

No, he couldn’t be seeing this…Stanley rubbed his eyes and looked back. Sure enough, there was nothing there. The fire consumed the house, and now the only remains were ashes.

He knew that when Ford came back he was going to be in trouble, but for the moment all he could think was that he was alive. Thank god, he was _alive!_ Chuckling to himself, he tried to get up–to recall how injured he was. Oh gosh, that really hurt. _Nope, not getting up,_ he thought, slumping down and leaning against the tree like it was a lifeline.

Moments later he passed out from utter exhaustion.

. . .

**9:00 AM, AFTER**

“Sorry it took so long to get back; I may’ve gotten a bit lost…” Ford trailed off, smiling awkwardly at the two kids.

“That’s okay Grunkle Ford, we don’t mind—Right Dipper?” Mabel said cheerfully, nudging her brother. He laughed.

“Yeah, we don’t mind,” he agreed. “But, uh, where _is_ the shack exactly?” Dipper asked, quirking a brow.

Ford looked at him in confusion. “Why, it’s right–” but he never finished his sentence, for when he turned all he saw were ashes. He stood there in silence for a moment, seeing red. “STANLEY!” he yelled, storming over to the poor man.

He woke up with a gasp before Ford punched him in the gut. “That’s for ruining my house! Oh, god, why?!” Ford asked, reeling in anger. It was after a few moments of waiting for an answer that he really saw how bad Stanley was doing.

His white shirt was torn in multiple places and his slippers were both gone. Splinters could be seen on his skin in various locations–his arm, his leg, his face…Bruises and cuts littered his body. But the worst part was surely the burns. They were everywhere! Not only that, but these were third degree.

“S-Stanley? Are you alright?” he asked, concerned. Ford knelt down and lifted his shirt to see an extensive burn on his back. Stanley pushed him off.

“I’m fine,” he reassured, but it was clear as day he was quite the opposite. Ford shook his head before picking him up and dragging him to the hospital. “Where’re we going?” Stanley asked, his fear growing.

Ford didn’t answer, and the trip to the hospital–kids in tow–was quiet. Finally, they arrived at the doors, and while Stanley struggled to a great extend to escape he was too weak, and Ford successfully dragged him in.

. . .

**11:00 AM, AFTER**

The hospital sent him to a room almost immediately and treated all of his wounds before finally asking the question Stanley was praying they wouldn’t ask. “What’s your name?”

Ford answered for him. “He is Stanley Pines. My brother.” The gentlemen, treating him gasped, and his eyes widened.

“ _The_ Stanley Pines?!” he asked. Ford’s eyes narrowed.

“Yes.”

“S-sorry, it’s just…we thought he died thirty years ago. And, ah, he hasn’t been to his check-ups since 15…” the man trailed off, looking nervously at the man. Right now he was fast asleep. He hoped it’d stay that way for a while.

Ford’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.” He could tell the nurse was dead serious. “Ugh, Stanley…”

. . .

“Alright, your new house is officially complete!” Manly Dan said, beaming with pride. This house was even better than the old one–the exact same, minus the mystery crap Ford had always hated, and an extra floor, not to mention everything was clean.

It was finally Ford’s house again. Stanley, of course, hated the new layout, but Ford thought the fire was his fault, so he didn’t really care. Besides, they were going to sail around the world anyway—what was the big deal?

“Thank you,” he said, giving him the money and a big hug. “I really appreciate your help.”

Dan smiled proudly. “Anything for the Pines!”

Stanley looked it up and down. He had plenty of new scars from the burns, and some of them still hurt every once in a while. “Eugh, it’s so Fordsy I could burn it down again,” he mumbled. But to be truthful, he didn’t actually mind. It was peaceful, quiet, and overall nice. He liked it.

It was home.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Okay, this is my second year doing Stanuary. I figured I'd just submit it to tumblr this time, it just sounds easier for everyone. So if you see a GasterFan5 fic floating around on tumblr, that's me :D
> 
> I have to say this prompt was so much fun to work with! Hehehe. It came out kind of weird, but I like it. Happy January!


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